Category: nature

Wind Swept Growl

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Loud depth of wind
Sending a sliver of the moon
Into long blades of grass
Bellowing Autumn’s warm choice of a day

How dare minutes of this season
Fall away so effortlessly
Like the glimpse of a red lit night sky
Following in Sun’s same footsteps

Test not growing darkness’s patience
For caught you shall be if thy tarry lasts
Any longer than a deep breath of sorrow
For soon, that lone Mars shall break the starless trance

Last evening desires fade
As Coyote wakes to prowl
And guarding this fleece lined flock
A great Pyrenees longs his stretch and growls

Lost Sun Wolf

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Land is enough
So why do I hold
So close to my being
This building of plans
Future visions
Amounting to more stacks
Of unread books?

To see, to breathe,
To smells deeply
As I stand patiently
Watching grass blow
And clouds roll.

I try to explain
Why wolf culls are horrific,
Why medicating healthy
Is sponsored iotrogenics.

But the scroll keeps
Dragging attention
Through foreign landscapes
And cute puppies,
Into weddings of strangers
And good times
I’ve seen before
In beer commercials.

It’s ok
Because it’s too much
To take in
Especially all at once.

So I stand here,
Void of that voice
Realizing deeply
Just like setting sun
That I will be forgotten soon
And tomorrow
Which will always come
Will be another day
To try.

Incoherently Surrender

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Whispering incoherently into my ear
I lost myself into reverie
A world I’d always dreamed of
Soaked in sweat of our lust
We were alone in our madness
Lazy summer breeze through
The teepee opening

Was this ever our together?
Calmness so saturated
In lazy sun streams forgetting
Each worry on our minds
Like watching honey drip
And the taste that’s next
To souls forever twixt

Wake me if I ever go there
I wouldn’t mind your soft nudges
Urging my response
A smile always for you, my amora
In twilight hours of our embrace
Along river banks and gurgling streams
Lost in a deep green forest
Of your old mans beard surrender

Winter’s Soul

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Your winter cold
Holds me in an escape
A reverie of distant
Guiding stars
So easily visible
About this cloudless
Waxing gibbous;
Cassiopeia now
Directly beneath Polaris.

A soft hand reaches
For the twines of mine chest,
Slowly breathing
To hold onto each
Breaking moment of day
And soft light
Emenates from the portal
That will soon be
Taking me away.

But this is the calm disguise
Of a growing winter day
As icicles clutch at
My deepening breath
Fusing the crisp daylight
With essences of my soul
A relaxing moment
Amidst my growing motivation
Toiling in my way
As soon, in all hope,
It shall all pass my way again.

Yesterday

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I thought I remembered you yesterday
Then I woke and you weren’t on my mind
In my fury I swallowed hard
Thinking of all the time I spent
Without your sweet smell beside myself
I wasn’t hungry like I told you so
But my trigger was a lofty chance
So I left you and your sideways glance
To find peace amongst the trees.

So and so it was again
So it came and so it went
So I heard your voice nevermore
So cold winter sprung away
So a warm wind blew my way
So I loved the place I stay
So I left you yesterday.

Broken Veins

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What road did I drive down again?
Path of dusty broken veins
Weed choked by falling road dust
Dry season on two wheels
And a gooseneck straddling dotted lines
About a ribbon I’ve tied across my finger
To remember a mannequin I fell in love with.

Holy I went left!
I took my squirrels medium rare
And left my lover there
Amongst rocks as ocean’s edge
To watch whatever growing storm
Should scarcely hide away her tears.

In my pack I tried to hold
Every essential piece of gold
I locked it up, taped it down,
Bound it to my back with straps
That crossed my chest and held my gear
As wind swept across my beard
Reminding me though I may fly
I’m still so gnarled and twined
As river’s edge a weeping willow
Set about my fate.

Slowly into Tea

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I wish I could cry on the good days
when my tea is softly spoken
and each of my windows
have snow lightly dancing,
exploring my imagination
in waxing crescent arising.

So it’s said my moon is slowly rising
a wind about my sail
to calm me as I build up to
a moment of my truth.
Where do I sing from?
No microphone or recorder
follows me around
making what shall soon become
lost in a myriad of webs.

Perhaps my days are all of good;
tea awaits my silent lips
even when the sun has risen cold
and my time spent entranced in forest
are met with caribou and grouse.

So maybe the I shall speak a little,
whistle a little to my tune
that whispers it’s short breath inside
each window I look out upon
and lays my ever waxing moon
into swirl of my tea leaves
where my moment comes just as the last
a fragment to be had and gone.

Sound/Vision

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Who are you?
What is your sound/vision?
What guides your call?

Deep gulps of morning coffee
Flickering sounds
An empty wall
With little splash marks
Years of service gone by.

This pen fades
The more I write,
Like fallen leaves
Into enrichened soil
Rhythms have lost my voice
Telling me of better days.